Turn, and face the change.

We moved to a new office today. Predictably, everything was fucked, from the get go. The phones didn't work, the computers didn't work, the fax machine ate everything you put into it, and everyone was a little haggard by the end of the day.

My new office is nicer, by a long shot. It's sunnier, there's more room to spread out, everything is easier. I wouldn't dream of going back. Not everything is different, but the things that are most certainly are better.

However, I was almost freakishly stressed out, all day long. My shoulders ache, a sure sign of extra tension, and I'm exhausted. Upon further review, (and what, really, do I not subject to further review) I realized that even as a grown man, change makes me uncomfortable. Different, I like. Changing, not so much. My new office is better, without question. Yet I find myself stubbornly resisting to learn the new phone system and futilely complaining about the (beautiful) courtyard my fellow smokers and I are relegated to. I don't like having to stand idly by while major changes are foisted on me by powers beyond myself. The adjustment is too rough, like slamming on the brakes and taking off in a new direction. I like the new stuf, sure. I just don't like getting there. And in a couple weeks, I'll never want to leave the new place.

I'm like this in other ways. Give me eel sushi and pig's feet in my pozole--just don't ask me to go somewhere new to try it. I'll try The End of Alice--but only if I casually pick it up while the Remix makes dinner, otherwise I'm going to sit on my couch and reread A Confederacy of Dunces again. Bring on shared apartments and kids and marriage--just don't start telling me all the things I have to do differently.

This last is sort of what I'm driving (meandering?) at. When the Remix and I were first dating (does that make her "the Mix?" Hmm...) I wasn't ready for the relationship we were trying to have. Now, five long years later, I am. We always loved each other. The requirements haven't changed, I have. My priorities are different. The five years sucked, for the most part. Without them, we wouldn't be here. I changed on my own. No one asked me to, no one forced me to. We're different now, both of us; but in all the important ways, nothing has changed.

My new relationship is nicer, by a long shot. It's sunnier, there's more room to spread out, everything is easier. I wouldn't dream of going back. Not everything is different, but the things that are most certainly are better.

However, I am not stressed out. Upon further review, I'm not missing anything. I don't feel like the car is turning without me. I turned by myself, and somehow ended up back on the road beside the person I love the most. I'm ready now, sweetheart. I'm with you now. And it only took a couple of dates to know that I never, never want to leave the new place.